The Mortal
by Ten-kih Ho-shih
Summary: The tale of two mortals under the insurmountable hold of delerium, and how each of the endless becomes part of their misery.  Seven chapter, one featuring each of the endless.
1. Delerium

Delirium

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Disclaimer: I do not own The Sandman. seriously, I am too broke to buy a book. Thanks to Neil Gaiman and my local library.

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Authors Note: I have a love-hate relationship with delirium. She is an amazingly awesome character, but she is really difficult to write about, and calls for some odd creativity I find difficult to muster up. I may steal some things.

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He sat in what may or may not have been the uniform of dull gray scrubs, with his legs folded and his hands resting in his lap. His head hung low, wavy nest of red hair drooping. He was listening.

A soft buzzing from a corner, near a window. It could have been a fly. Maybe a watermelon, or a hailstorm, pounding against the window in what might be august. He could never really be sure.

But covering up the buzzing now was the distant echo of footsteps. Maybe footsteps. Maybe a gong, or someone loudly sucking air out of a milkshake glass.

He could never know for sure.

Slowly lifting his head, he saw her.

A dim, hazy figure, making louder steps that seemed possible. Ghostly, almost, from what he saw.

She stepped closer, and he felt a flicker inside him. He couldn't quite recall who she was, and the ghostly thoughts in his mind started again. All around him was smoke. All he could see, feel, smell, taste, hear was smoke, billowing around him. He went into a coughing fit.

She grabbed his hand, hard. He felt her warmth, and brushed away the smoke. She was no longer hazy. He could see her face.

A candle lit inside him, perhaps the one producing all the smoke.

Skin that might have been pale or might have been ivory. Hair that may have been dark, or possibly chocolate. Eyes that were blue, or rather, mini oceans. A few fish escaped his mouth.

She was dressed in real world clothing. Maybe the real world, maybe somewhere else entirely. Maybe he was in the real world.

Delirium danced in a corner, watching the pair. Giggling, she saw how much he drew from her. The girl, she saw the girl, witch chocolate hair and ocean eyes, with fish encircling her and she didn't even realize it. What a strange person. She held onto the boys hand as if it he were falling off a cliff. He made more sense now.

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The girl had nearly lost hope. She grew tired of coming in once a week, into these halls, feeling an empty cold, and coming to see him. She used to love him. There was a time when she would take off work and fly across the country to see him. She could almost remember his perfect smile, remembered how he smiled whenever he saw her. Now it was different.

She spoke to him, as she did every week, trying to get him to talk to her. He just coughed and stared at a fly on the window. A tear ran down her cheek. She missed him so much.

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He could hear her talking, hear her voice. A wavering sound, as if being spoken underwater. I was beautiful, but he could never know it was a voice. It could have been the scream of an ambulance, or waves hitting the beach. He couldn't respond to her calls. He would look crazy if it wasn't really her.

She sat beside him and held him close. Pearly tears rolled own her cheeks, to land on the dull gray clothing. Tears, or diamonds, now no one knew for sure.

Ten-kih Ho-shih


	2. Dream

Dream

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Disclaimer: I do not own The Sandman. nope, not one little bit. Oh, how I wish I did....

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Author note: Okay, second chapter, very cool. I really do hope to get the entire thing complete. Eventually.

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She hummed as she combed through her hair. Long chestnut locks fell through the ivory comb and she washed her face before slipping on a long white nightgown and walking toward the bedroom.

She lay down on the single twin bed, falling into oceans of satin and lace. She turned off the reading light beside the bed, and she was bathed in darkness, alone in her world. Yawning and getting herself comfortable, and cascaded into the arms of sleep and dream.

She swam through a river of mist. She paddled and kicked as the wind brought the mist against her, struggling to get through to the end of the stream. Just as she had nearly lost all strength and would have been swiftly taken the other direction, an arm grabbed hers and dragged her forward.

The sensation swas amazing, mist clinging to her eyelashes and combing through her hair. The arms strong, and she lost herself for what seemed like hours in the ride.

Her head burst the surface of the river of mist, and she gulped clean, dry air. Her eyes opened to see before her a waterfall of blood.

She stood under it, felt the thick crimson elixir wash over her, and it left no residue in her hair or on her clothes. she opened her mouth and it flowed in. It tasted of milk and honey.

She the waterfall fell, she saw the reflection of two faces in its surface. A boy, with wavy red hair and two different colored eyes. And then, one of the endless, the king of dreams, Morpheus.

She reached out to touch the boys face. It wavered in the water, rippling like the ocean. Then it She withdrew her hand, but t didn't stop. It changed and morphed and wavered, and it grew as far from its original form as possible before disappearing entirely.

The reflection of Morpheus blinked and then disappeared. She reached out and touched the spot where he had been, sure that he might be behind the wall of blood.

Where she touched, suddenly brightly colored tropical fish emerged from the water, encircling her several times, before flying off into the distance.

A figure waded through the mist and blood in the distance. Slowly she sees him, standing upright with a smile on his face. It is the boy with red hair and mismatched eyes. He walks up to her and smiles, wraps his arms around her, holds her tight. She looks at him and her eyes widen in horror as slowly the top if his skull turns to a fine mist and drifts away, leaving the inside of his head exposed and filled with fish and odd words and symbols and blood and mist.

She screams and dives into the mist, but her fingers cant seem touching to him, and she cant let go. somehow she doesn't want to.

Her own scream awakes her.

Ten-kih Ho-shih


	3. Desire

The Mortals, Chapter 3, Desire

Authors note: I really apologize for how long it took. I am going to be honest here and say that I forgot. Avoids flying rocks And no, nothing profoundly explicit in this chapter. Regardless of Desires obvious role, I find it cheapens my work.

And contrary to what Morgan says, Peter is not just sick, he is insane, she just thinks of him as sick. Don't ask what made him insane, that may be revealed later. wink Sorry it is so short. Read on

Morgan lay flat out on her bed, exhausted but too tired to sleep. The tired that overcame her could partially be attributed to a full and busy day at work, but that was just another excuse. She knew the real reason.

She had visited Peter again that afternoon. She has grasped his hand and kissed him and told him for the umpteenth time that everything would be okay. For the umpteenth time, he stared back at her with blank eyes.

She clung to these memories, no matter how terrible they where. She told herself that they would make her happier when Peter got better. She refused to imagine him staying sick.

Slowly but surely her eyelids grew heavy. Just before nodding off, she curled up next to a large teddy bear, their first anniversary gift.

There it was, the tree again. Leafs shaped like hearts and branches like arms, and each drop of dew like a star. A small heart was carved into the trunk near the bottom.

Morgan

Peter

A bird sang in a top branch, a melody so beautiful. In a leaf reflected the smiling face of a yellow eyed someone.

And look, there were people in the tree. A man and a woman. One had red-brown hair and what were once both green eyes. The other with hair the color of chocolate and eyes like an ocean. Her long, pale, spider-like fingers were entwined with his, his fingernails chewed as far as they would go.

And the two were kissing, affectionately, passionately, as if they had been doing this for a long time, and it would never get boring. They separated, looked at each others eyes for a moment, and then leaned back in.

She woke up crying. That one dream could never come true again.


End file.
